iKeep Running Away
by Sushihiro
Summary: Sequel to iHate Jeff."It keeps on getting harder for you to stay away. You don't have the strength to do it. Give up. Give in already. Even if you managed to run away, you'd just come back.You'll always come back. You can't run from him."
1. The Fire Escape

_iKeep Running Away_

_The Fire Escape_

**A/N:Can you believe how far Seddie has come? The last time I published something on here, Seddie had only kissed once in the episode iKiss. iOMG had never happened. And now iLost My Mind is coming August 13th! Just two weeks, people! I'm so excited and SO happy Seddie are finally getting their chance after having to endure iSaved Your Life. Dan Schneider, you are the best!  
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** I would like to take this time to thank everybody who put up with me and waited for this story. I've gotten quite a number of PM's from reviewers wondering when the sequel would come up. I just want to say that I'm really sorry for the wait. I know I said early summer and now the summer is practically over for some people, but it was all in good reason. I've been writing this story like mad and working on it ever since I ended iHate Jeff, never forgetting it for a second. **

**This story has gotten almost a year's worth preparation and I think it's really ready. I'm happy with the way I've portrayed the characters and also the new characters I've created. I hope you like them as much as I do. **

**Here's the first chapter of the iHate Jeff sequel, iKeep Running Away. I think we all know where I got the title from :) And now I will leave you to enjoy. Read and review!  
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_Disclaimer: iCarly is the genius work of Dan Schneider. I own nothing but the plot. _

_Freddie's POV_

_Did I tell you I knew your name_  
><em> But it seems that I've lost it<em>  
><em> Did I tell you it's my own game<em>  
><em> This is not your problem<em>

_ I don't know if I'm gonna change_  
><em> Wasting time and another day<em>  
><em> I keep running away<em>  
><em> Even from the good things<em>

The sky was as clear as it got in Seattle the night following Sam's departure to New York. It was cool out and slightly windy that night on the fire escape. I still couldn't believe she'd gone. My blonde-haired demon. My best friend. My_ love_. It was probably close to midnight. I had been sitting out here, listening to my Pear Pad, the same song on repeat for two hours.

I clutched a picture of Sam in my hands, unable to take my eyes off of it. This was my favorite picture of her. It was taken a month before she'd met her boyfriend, Jeff, and we were in our last year of high school. Sam's hair was done back the way I secretly liked it. Away from her face in a ponytail. She had me in a headlock, I was looking particularly annoyed, but her face was joyous. She had her head on top of mine and she was grinning. Her bangs were messy and she wasn't wearing a stitch of makeup.

Both of us were covered in chocolate cake mix, her hand print, made of cake batter, was plastered on my new shirt. I had a raw egg, complete with the shell, cracked over my head and there was a bit of chocolate on my cheek. Two-fourths of Sam's face and body were covered in chocolate. There was a spot of flour on her nose. I smiled at the memory.

It had been Spencer's birthday. Carly had gone out shopping to buy his present. She had put Sam and I in charge of making the cake. What a mistake that was.

The moment Carly had left, Sam grabbed the bowl of batter that I had carefully made from scratch, took a messy handful of it, and threw it straight for my face. I had ducked just in time, but the chocolate had splattered the wall behind me. I knew Carly was gonna flip when she got home so I tried to make Sam stop fooling around and help me clean up.

Of course she called me a stick in the mud and flicked another bit in my face. I tried to ignore her and clean up, but she just wouldn't let my attention wander away from her. I snapped and ended up upending the bowl of batter over her head. That called for war.

Let's just say, she won. And I ended up sticky and in that headlock. When Carly returned, she shouted at the both of us and demanded we clean the kitchen before Spencer came home and found the place a mess with no birthday party set up. Sam refused to let me out of the headlock, still mad about the batter and Carly ended up cleaning the kitchen and setting up the party herself. Spencer came home before much got done. But the worst of it was already taken care of and he was more amused than anything at the state of his apartment.

Spencer thought that the headlock Sam had me in was just the funniest thing and ended up grabbing his camera to capture the moment. I remember clearly Sam kicking me over and over and saying, "Smile dork." Not caring how many bruises I would have in the morning, I didn't smile and thus, we have this picture.

Carly never really did forgive us for ruining Spencer's party, but thinking back on it, it was kind of funny. It was great fun having a cake war with Sam and I loved having her hold me like that. If it weren't for knowing how much trouble we would have been in, I would have enjoyed the experience more. At the time, I was truly annoyed with Sam. Now it has to be one of my favorite moments between the two of us.

I sighed.

_Did I tell you it's not that bad_  
><em> Sitting over here dreaming<em>  
><em> Did I tell you I'm right on track<em>  
><em> This time I mean it<em>

_ I don't know if I'm gonna change_  
><em> Wasting time and another day<em>

_ I keep running away_  
><em> Even from the good things<em>

The song ended, then restarted again. I had put it on replay. _The song that had played when Sam and I kissed for the first time ever. _

How I love that girl...

_But she was gone._

Going to New York with her boyfriend, _Jeff_. They may even be there by now. I didn't know. I figured she'd call or something when she got there. I wondered how things were going. If she had had a safe flight. How she was feeling. Anxious, happy? She was probably happy. Excited. Holding Jeff's hand as they toured the streets of New York.

Fingers numb, I finally set down the picture of Sam and I. I missed her. I wondered how my life would be without her. So far it's been dull, but that might just be because I've spent it all out here, depressing myself further by doing nothing but thinking of her.

_Her hair, her eyes, her smile. _

I hoped she was happy wherever she was. Whatever she was doing. I wonder if she knows that I'm miserable here._..If she knows that when she's ready to return to Seattle that I'm here. Waiting for her. Waiting for her to tell me that she feels the same way and that she's ready to start a relationship with me. Waiting..._

But she didn't have any feelings for me beyond friendship and she wasn't even thinking of coming back. Not when she was with her precious Jeff...

I was shocked to feel tears start to well up in my eyes. I let them travel down my chin and onto the concrete.

_Sam Puckett, if ever you are ever ready to come back to me, I am waiting for you._

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><p><strong>AN: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Next one will be up very soon. Now I know this was pretty much just Freddie angst, but don't worry, the next chapter has major dialogue.  
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** So I noticed in the last chapter of iHate Jeff how many people were upset with the ending, and how many people were sad, but happy with the ending and awaiting the sequel. I just want to say I cherish each and every review I get. Good or bad. So don't hesitate to send bad reviews if bad reviews are due. I like reading about everyone's different opinions, but I'll have you know that iHate Jeff ended just as I wanted it to and I have no regrets. I respect those who accepted that ending as well as those who complained. Every review makes me a better writer. **

**And now, the time has come to review again! Feedback helps, you guys :)**

_**Sushihiro ***´¨)_

_(¸.•´_


	2. Moving In, Moving On

_iKeep Running Away_

_Moving In, Moving On_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, and, of course- Jeff :)_

**A/N: Sam's texts are in bold, Freddie's are in italics. Enjoy the chapter!**_  
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_Sam's POV_

Four white walls, one window, a small, tidy bed that was just big enough for me, an empty little closet and a ceiling fan. Also, there was a desk. Was this New York, or prison?

Jeff's mom, Sharon, lives in Long Island, New York. We're a couple of hours from the city. So much for visiting Times Square everyday.

It was new living on an island, surrounded by water and such, plus there was an amazing view of the beach right outside my window, but...couldn't this woman at least get a paint job?

I twirled around, staring up at the ceiling for a minute. I was dizzy in seconds. All I saw was white. I flopped onto the edge of the bed to regain stability. Staring at the equally white door, I felt so closed in. Claustrophobic.

I jumped slightly when the door opened. Jeff carrying my bags.

"Don't you knock?" I said trying a playful tone to cover up my annoyance.

"Sorry. So, how are you liking it?" He asked hopefully.

Maybe I took a little too long to answer.

"Too boring for you?"He smirked.

"It's a nice sized place." I said, kicking at the (of course, _white_) carpet. "I don't need that much room for my stuff, but I could definitely do some redecorating. If your mom wouldn't mind, that is."

"Of course not, this is your home too, now." He smiled, joining me on the edge of the bed. "We never even use this room. It's yours to keep even when you go back to Seattle."

"Cool." I said, but I didn't smile. Since we had boarded the plane, I had been trying not to think about Seattle. But our six hour flight had landed two hours ago, and now it was two hours later. It had been over eight hours since I had talked to Carly.

I had sent her a quick update before boarding the plane, and then I texted her again while Jeff and I grabbed lunch on our stop. I called her on the taxi ride here and she didn't pick up.

I wanted to know how she was doing and my concern for her was quickly overtaking my desire not to think about my ex-best friend.

No, Sam. You came here to get away from him- I mean, them. Forget them, this is the new life that you chose. Distract yourself. Do anything you have to to stop from thinking about him.

But this was impossible. I was trapped in this white void. There was nothing to fiddle around with in my fingers, not a patern on the wall to get lost in.

I continued to stare about like before, getting even dizzier than ever. The front of the house was at least peach-colored. I was about to suggest we go out front when he grabbed my hand.

"Listen...if you regret coming here with me." He started, looking surprisingly flustered.

"I don't-" I started quickly.

"Let me finish. If you ever feel like you want to go back home, that's perfectly okay. I'll have it so that you can go back anytime you like. Nothing's stopping you if you ever feel like it or if you just want a visit or-"

"Chill. This is my home now." We smiled at each other, then I moved my hand out of his and stood up.

"I'm worried though," I admitted. "I've tried to contact Carly a million times since we landed. She won't pick up or even text back."

"Maybe something happened." He said, in an attempt to make me feel better. As if she weren't avoiding me. Instead I felt worse, almost panicky as I picked up my cell again.

"Okay, that was the wrong thing to say." He hurriedly grabbed my phone from me. "I'm sorry. I'm sure everything's fine. Carly's kind of mad at us right now... Why don't you try someone else?"

"Oh, good thinking!" As I texted Freddie, I quickly calculated the time difference. It was just now five o'clock here, so it was only two o'clock there.

My heart rate started to pick up as my fingers flew across the phone's keyboard.

You left to be away from him, I reminded myself. But I didn't care. Eight hours was long enough and if I couldn't see him, I at least had to talk to him.

**Sam: Hope ur up, Nub. Tell Carly to CALL ME.**

I sighed, settling down on the bed again, pressing send on the message, and running my fingers through my hair. I could use a shower. Jeff scooted closer.

"What's wrong?"

"Just that- I thought Carly would have forgiven me by now." I murmured. "She usually doesn't hold grudges this long. I get that she's mad at me._ I'm_ mad at me, but she's _supposed_ to be the forgiving one."

"Maybe you shouldn't expect so much of her." He said thoughtfully."You're her best friend. This is different from all those other fights you guys have had. She's feeling bad because you left her."

I raised my eyebrow. "And this makes me feel better how?"

He chuckled. "I just meant..." He kissed my temple. "This is new to her. She'll adjust."

"Better." I smiled.

"Cool."

I looked back at my phone. Two minutes had passed since I sent Freddie that text. He'd better not be mad at me, too. Or maybe he was just a slow texter. Or his phone was off. Ugh, I hate not knowing!

Jeff noticed me staring at my phone and got up. "I'm gonna go unpack now. Good luck getting ahold of Carly." He smiled wanly before leaving. The door closed quietly, but there was still an echo.

Stupid, empty little box.

I shivered. I couldn't last a week in this room. Even if I have to spray-paint graffiti on these walls I'll do anything to make it less hideous!

My phone vibrated then and my hand raced to it. Freddie's reply made me smile.

_Freddie: Good morning to you too, Sam..._

Okay, I more than smiled. Blood rushed rapidly to my face and my heart sped up tenfold.

Mainly to distract myself from the achingly familiar feeling that was washing over me, I quickly texted back.

**Sam: Morning? It's afternoon, Dork check ur nug nug clock**

A moment passed before I got his reply.

_Freddie: Oh yeah...you're right_

It was Sunday.

Freddie always got up early on Sundays. Sometimes his mother dragged him to church with her, other times he stayed home and did...whatever nerds do in the early hours of the morning.

**Sam: Did you sleep in or something?**

_Freddie: Just lost track of time_

I bit my lip. I hope this didn't have anything to do with me. This nub wouldn't turn suicidal or anything just because I left? This wasn't Twilight. He was too smart for that, wasn't he?

**Sam: Yeah well...this isn't about you this is about Carly. Did u tell her i called?**

Five full minutes passed before he texted back.

_Freddie: She...hasn't called you yet?_

**Sam: No didn't i just say that? keep up!**

_Freddie: Sorry. I've told her to call you I don't know how many times._

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. So she was mad at me.

**Sam: So...still mad huh, you think?**

_Freddie: I guess so. I'm sorry._

**Sam: Not your fault.**

I stared at the words I had typed on the screen for a minute before I pressed send.

It was a lie. It was his fault. The whole reason I left was his fault. It was his fault that I felt this way, wasn't it? Or...was it mine? Yeah, my fault, not his. Isn't that how it worked?

I was thinking about the forbidden subject again, so I tossed it out of my mind and pressed send.  
>We didn't text again that day. And Carly didn't call me.<p>

Which was just as well.

For some reason, the distance gave me strength. This wasn't about wallowing in what was done. This was about moving forward.

I couldn't dwell on my old friends in my old life. I needed all _new_ friends. A_ new_ life. I needed to forget Carly, Spencer, _Freddie_ especially...

It's better this way, you'll see, I thought to myself. It'll be more comfortable. No pain, no fear. He's gone.  
>I'm moving on, and eventually he will, too.<p>

I realized I was crying. I tried to smile to show strength. Pucketts don't cry, but I've been doing it a lot lately.  
>I turned my cell phone off and stepped out of the empty, white room, thinking of him.<p>

I imagined the disapproving look he'd have if he knew what my feelings were now and how I pushed them away out of my mind so often.

I could imagine how sad, yet serious his eyes would be. How the corners of his mouth would be turned down into a scarce frown. I felt as guilty as if he were watching me run from him right now on the spot.

In my mind, he folded his arms, tilting his head to the side.

"Who knew Puckett was so chicken?" He taunted. "I thought you weren't afraid of anything. Now suddenly you're _scared_ of loving a nub? You're different than the fearless person I thought I knew." He scoffed, his jaw set, as it was whenever he got upset about something.

"Shut up, Benson." I whispered, holding my head high. "One day you'll thank me. I'm doing this for both of us." I was pleased to find that I was no longer crying. The wounds were starting to heal rapidly already. Good old New York.

"You're doing this for yourself."

The blow struck me hard, but I didn't shed another tear.

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><p><strong>AN: Who else wants to slap Sam right now? I know I do!**

**I really should start taking the time to reply to my reviews. Sadly, that will have to wait until the next chapter. If you don't review, the story could end Sam/Jeff instead of Sam/Freddie! :O**

_Sushihiro *´¨)_

_(¸.•´_


	3. New Girl

_iKeep Running Away_

_New Girl  
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_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot :)  
><em>

**A/N: ****Well, this update was faster than the last one, so enjoy!**_  
><em>

_Carly's POV_

Junk. Trash. Crap.

All of it.

Some old, horrible striped shirt that Sam loved. It's black and white and she normally wears it with a leather vest. I threw it into the trash bag with all of the rest of her hideous clothes. Her old torn jeans, scuffed tennis shoes and converse, some awful belts that looked like she'd found in a thrift store somewhere.

Obviously none of this was fancy enough for her to take with her to her precious New York City.

I tossed the trash bag into a corner, double checking my closet to make sure I'd gotten all of Sam's things out. Only _my_ brightly colored clothes hung inside, or were folded on the shelves. Only my boots and other shoes lined the closet floor. My closet hasn't been completely mine like this since second grade. Always it was Sam's stuff, too. Sam and I.

My vision blurred as I felt another rush of tears slide down my face.

As I had been doing all morning, I wiped them away quickly with my elbow and continued to search my room for more of my ex-best friend's stuff.

Mentally crossing out the closet from off of my list, I started on under the bed.

I scrunched up my nose. Sometimes Sam kept dishes that she was finished with underneath or her old socks and things. But luckily, for once there was nothing but dust under there.

Satisfied and relieved, I started on some drawers. Grabbing an empty box that Spencer had lent to me, I dumped the drawer, which looked like it was made up entirely of Sam's things, into the box. I stared down into the deep box for a second. Against my better judgment, I started to look through the stuff.

One of Sam's fingerless gloves, her marble collection, an old key chain...a friendship bracelet?

I picked it up, turning it over. These bracelets were made six years ago at the jewelry store back in town. Sam and I went together one weekend and we'd made friendship bracelets entirely out of beads and stones. I think Freddie had one, too. When we gave it to him, he just rolled his eyes. I don't think he's ever worn it.

On the back, written in gold ink was my name,"_Carly_," printed in Sam's untidy handwriting.

This wasn't Sam's bracelet, it was mine.

I stared at the bracelet for a minute, a lump forming in my throat. I felt sick.

It looked as if it were far too small for my wrist now, having been only a preteen when I made it to fix me. I lifted it up into the light, my vision blurring again. I wiped the tears away in frustration. I'd been cleaning my room for hours and I still hadn't stopped crying since we came home from the airport.

Tired of re-wetting my elbow every few seconds, I grabbed a hoodie from off the pile on my bed and wiped the tears on the sleeve. The smell coming form the clothing wasn't mine. Sam's.

Anger surging through me, I balled it up and threw it into the garbage bag.

_Trash._

Bottom drawer. Sam's socks, boy-shorts, and the few pairs of panties that she owned, old bras, and four of five of Sam's journals.

All trash.

Sam's CD's and albums, Sam's old phone charger, her fake I.D., some of her failed school tests, her sketches and drawings...

Garbage.

I tossed it all into the box, suddenly realizing that I was still holding the friendship bracelet.

I stared at it for a moment.

_Trash_, I decided.

I tossed it on top of the rest of Sam's pointless articles, but I looked down at it longer than I needed to. We aren't friends anymore. I don't need that bracelet. It doesn't even fit anymore. _Sam and I don't fit anymore._

Quickly I needed a distraction. A box of my old trophies. Nothing special. I looked through the dusty old gold statues.

_Student of the year, 2006- Carly Shay_

_Carly Shay- Girl Scout of the year, 1999  
><em>

_Perfect Attendance 2009__- Carly Shay_

_Carly Shay- Winner of the Best Written Report Award, 2008_

_Carly Shay- Best behaved Girl Scout, 2002_

_Carly Shay...Carly Shay...Carly Shay..._

"Gah!" I yelled, my finger snagging against a piece of broken glass in the box. Withdrawing my badly bleeding finger, I stared down at the glass that cut me. How did that even get in there? My finger really hurt!

_Ouch! Oh...crap...crap, crap, crap, but good girls don't say "Crap." _

Who said I'm a good girl? I challenged. _Oh...yes I am. _

_No. You feel like cursing, then curse. _

"Crap!" I shouted so loudly that it I heard it even seconds later, like an echo.

I don't care who hears me, I realized.

I tried out a few more curse words, just muttering them under my breath because I could, because I _wanted to_, because no one could stop me, because my finger hurt. _  
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I realized I needed to sit down, my legs were shaking. Throwing away the bracelet was hard, but necessary. I needed to finish up my cleaning, not sit around, though. I had other things to do. And my finger was seriously bleeding very badly.

My floor was so cluttered with piles of clothes, boxes, trash bags, books, you name it, that I had to step over the box to reach the other side of the room.

It was a clumsy attempt. I tripped over it box and landed on a pile of my Sam's and my shirts. It didn't hurt. Maybe I was too preoccupied to think about pain. Or maybe my finger just hurt too much.

Pushing myself up, I stood to find myself facing my vanity mirror.

I was shocked to see how I looked.

The same.

Since Sam had left I hadn't aged a thousand years. My hair hadn't fallen out. I didn't even look all that tired.

I wasn't wearing any makeup aside from the sparkly pink lip balm I wore everyday to keep my lips smooth. My makeup-less eyes were red and puffy, but that was really the only difference.

I ran my bubblegum pink colored fingernails through my bra-stap length hair. I cried out when my hair brushed my cut, but I ignored it, merely cursing to cover the pain.

I hated my hair and I hated my nail polish.

With a sudden burst of inspiration, search the cabinets below for a bottle of nail polish remover. Scrubbing away the, now hideous to me, bubblegum pink polish.

_Ugly, ugly, ugly. _

My cut was throbbing. I'd clean it later.

My fingernails were satisfyingly free of the awful color. Staring down at my bare feet, my toenails were the same terrible color.

I quickly wiped that away, next. All gone.

Taking my thumb, I wiped off most of the lip gloss I was wearing. I smirked at my reflection. Not so girly anymore.

The cut was not longer bleeding, most of the blood had been wiped away. There was the nasty scrape that would leave a scar no doubt, but I didn't care about it. Not right now, anyway.

I had other problems. My nails were clear. Too clear.

I looked through the drawers of my vanity until I found what I was looking for. Sam's bottle of black nail polish. She hardly ever used it, not liking to have to stay still and get her nails painted or wait for them to dry.

Even so, it was an old bottle and about half of it was gone. I shook the bottle. There was enough left.

Suddenly, black was more my taste.

I placed it on the table, out of the way of most of the mess. My hair caught in my face and I felt myself getting angry and frustrated again.

Stupid hair.

Without much thinking, I searched the drawers for a pair of scissors.

Grabbing a bunch-full of my hair on one side, I chopped it off evenly until it came to rest no lower than at my shoulders. I did the whole right side of my head and, liking what I saw, started on the left.

My phone rang loudly from somewhere on my bed.

I knew it was Sam, but rolling my eyes, I got up to sift through piles and pile of clothes until I found my cell.

Another text from the NYC queen.

22 messages unread, I saw.

I was too curious.

I started on the newest one and read down.

**Sam: Here in New York. Jeff's mom lives in long island so i'm not that close to the city. i hate my bedroom**.

Oh, boo-hoo. No Broadway everyday. How so_ very_ sad.

Next.

**Sam: We've landed and we're eating lunch. i'm having your favorite. french fries with a milkshake!**

Was that my favorite, now? I mused. Like I knew or cared anymore.

I read down the long train of messages, all bearing the same theme (**CALL ME. When are you gonna CALL ME. Where are you? You there?** And so on...) until I got to the first one she had sent so many hours ago.

**Sam: About to board the plane. last chance to say goodbye 2 your bestie? :/**

Before I knew it, I had hit the reply button.

_Carly:_ _Goodbye._

I felt happy with myself. I wanted her to feel bad. She shouldn't have left me. She shouldn't have left Freddie. Not while he was so in love with her. Not while _she_ was so in love with him. Not while I needed her.

"Bitch." I tried the new word aloud.

I said it to myself over and over.

Bitch, bitch, _bitch_.

_Sam is a bitch for leaving us._

Noticing the scattered clump of dark hair cluttering the floor, I remembered what I was doing and returned to the mirror, grabbing the scissors.

Looking back at my reflection, I saw a new look in my eyes. Bright, yet dark. Sad yes, but determined. They had a new drive in them. I wanted something new. Something else for me.

I knew then that I wasn't the same Carly that I was yesterday. Not just because one side of my hair was over eight inches shorter, either. I was just a different girl.

Good. I like it.

I smirked at myself again. Mirror-Carly smirked back.

I raised the scissors to other side of my hair to finish what I'd started.

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><p><strong>AN: Uh-oh, Carly! Looks like she's not the same, peppy girl we used to know! What is up? Freddie is depressed, Sam is trying not to care, Carly is turning...bad? Now that we understand how the trio are feeling right now...what happens next? A LOTTA awesome stuff, that's what! Review if you want a faster update, and of course if you want Seddie instead of Seff/Jam xD  
><strong>

_Sushihiro *´¨)_

_(¸.•´_


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